Afterlife
by GreenGirl47
Summary: An alternate ending to the scene where S first sees B in Afterlife. Some S/B angsty fluff.


A/N: My friend Danae told me to write a fic about this after they re-aired "Afterlife". Actually, it's more like she threatened me and forced me to write it. Oh well. It's pretty much an alternate ending to the scene where Spike first sees Buffy and he's holding her bleeding hands. Enjoy.  
  
**THIS ONE'S FOR YOU DANYEYA BULIMIA ECSTACY BOLLOCKS HANSONEY! **  
  
Disclaimer: Joss. Need I say more?  
  
  
  
  
  
"H-how long was I... gone?"  
  
Buffy's dazedly soft voice took a moment to penetrate Spike's consciousness. He was so preoccupied with looking at her, making himself understand that she was really here, that he was only vaguely aware that she had spoken to him.  
  
"Oh," he replied finally. "A hundred and forty seven days yesterday. So that would make it 148 today." He paused and smiled a little. "But I guess today doesn't really count, now does it?"  
  
She shook her head slightly, looking down at her raw and bloodied hands. His eyes followed hers to the gashes on her knuckles, and he swallowed hard. "Those look nasty."  
  
She shrugged limply, not moving her eyes from the wounds. "They hurt."  
  
"We'll get them cleaned up soon as Little Bit gets back with some antiseptic."  
  
Buffy glanced up at him, surprised at the fondness with which he'd referred to Dawn. "You... you took care of her... while I was..."  
  
He nodded. "Yeah. I did. Couldn't let her out of my sight half the summer."  
  
Her fatigued expression flickered. "Was it because of what you... what you promised me?"  
  
He nodded again slowly. "And because I couldn't let myself fail you twice."  
  
She closed her eyes briefly. "You mean..."  
  
"Yeah. If I'd done a better job of protecting the Niblet the first time..."  
  
She shook her head. "I d-don't blame you. Dawn couldn't... couldn't have--"  
  
"*What* about me now?" Dawn's cheerily strained voice sliced through the room, severing the somber atmosphere.  
  
Buffy ripped her gaze away from the vampire's sympathetic eyes. "Oh... Spike was telling me how... how he stayed with you for the... when I..."  
  
Dawn nodded. "Oh. Yeah. Spike was around a lot while you were... away."  
  
Spike winked at her. "Taught the Bit how to play rummy. *Not* the gambling type," he added quickly.  
  
"We had some fun. He's a good babysitter."  
  
"He told me he wouldn't... wouldn't let you out of... his sight."  
  
Dawn smiled, rolling her eyes satirically. "He didn't *have* to watch me all the time. But he did."  
  
Buffy gently returned the shell of a smile to her, giving Spike's hands a nearly imperceptible squeeze of thanks. He nodded subtly in response.  
  
"So." Dawn brandished the tube of Neosporin. "Let's get finished with your hands."  
  
Buffy shook her head in the affirmative, looking to Spike for assistance. He stood up, helping Buffy to her feet as Dawn slipped an arm around her sister's waist and started to lead her to the bathroom.  
  
"I'll wait out here," Spike called after them, sitting back down on the couch.  
  
Dawn shot him a smile over her shoulder as she herded Buffy up the stairs. "Okay. We'll only be a second."  
  
Spike gave a small wave, then leaned back into the cushions. "Bloody hell," he murmured, letting out a deep accessory breath. So many thoughts were running through his head, so many questions were popping up inside him.  
  
How did this happen? When did she arise? Why was she alive again? Was she all right? Where had she been? Who had resurrected her? What was going to happen to her now that she was back?  
  
Now that she was back.  
  
*She was back.*  
  
Spike exhaled unnecessarily again and reached into his front pocket for a cigarette. After fishing around for a moment he pulled one out, rolling it absently between his fore and middle fingers, and located his lighter. He was just about to ignite the slender tip when he remembered-Buffy hated it when people smoked.  
  
He groaned and chucked the cancer stick to the floor, hastily re-pocketing the lighter, then glanced restlessly around, hoping that Dawn and Buffy would come out of the bathroom soon. He felt so many things; he really didn't want to be sitting idly alone in the Summers's living room at that particular moment. He wanted to be doing something.  
  
He sighed, silently cursing the time. How long could it take to put some cream and a Band-Aid on Buffy's cuts?  
  
After a few more eternal minutes of waiting, Dawn's voice rang out from upstairs. "Spike!"  
  
He gave a start and got to his feet. "What, Niblet?"  
  
"Come up here!"  
  
"Be right there." He stretched languidly, cracking his back, then hurried up the stairs.  
  
Spike found Dawn standing outside Buffy's darkened room. "Bit." She looked up at him; her eyes were watery and red. Spike panicked for a second. "What's the matter?!"  
  
"Nothing," Dawn said softly. "She just asked me to call you up here. She said she wants to talk to you before she goes to sleep."  
  
Spike growled softly, placing his hands forcefully on her shoulders. "Don't you scare me like that, Dawn, do you bloody hear me? You already gave me a heart attack tonight running off with those biker demons around, you don't need to give me another one!"  
  
Dawn glanced down at the floor apologetically. "Spike. you're already dead."  
  
He stared at her for a moment; then smiled. "Yeah, I guess you've got me there."  
  
Buffy let out a sudden rasping cough from her bed, startling Dawn and Spike. She shifted out of his grasp benignly, saying quietly, "You should go talk to her now."  
  
He nodded. "Yeah. I will. You gonna be okay, though?"  
  
"Yeah," she replied. "I'll just go sit in my room for awhile. I think I need a major chill pill."  
  
He laughed softly. "All right. I'll come say goodbye before I leave."  
  
She turned to banish herself to her room, but before she made it two steps, Spike caught her by the arm. "What?" she asked.  
  
He took her face in his hands and kissed her forehead. "Just know that I'm here for you, Bit."  
  
She smiled. "I know. I love you, too, Spike."  
  
"Now you can go."  
  
When he was sure Dawn was closed in her room and out of earshot, Spike walked quietly to Buffy's bed, shutting the door behind him. She was lying limply beneath the covers, facing the wall, her blond hair cascading messily over the pillow. He could hear her sobbing breaths rattling painfully in her underused lungs; it broke his heart to see her in so fragile a state. "Buffy," he said tentatively.  
  
"Come sit," she told him, not turning away from the wall. He obeyed, his bewildered eyes locked on her bedraggled form.  
  
"Who brought you here?" he asked softly, resting on the edge of the mattress.  
  
Her monotonous voice replied, "Willow. and Xander. Anya. Tara."  
  
He was not surprised. "Are you all right then, Slayer?"  
  
She took a deep breath, then rolled over. Her face was thin and expressionless; her eyes reeked of sadness. "I'm not. okay," she whispered. A sob racked her body. "I. I clawed my way out of my own. my own coffin tonight. I was. gone. for so long. And now I'm. here. again." She closed her eyes, trying to hold back her tears.  
  
Spike reached an unsure hand out and touched her cheek. She did not push him away like she had so many times before; instead she moved closer to him. "It must have been horrible for you," he said. "Not only the crawling- from-your-own-grave thing, either. The whole being-tortured-in-hell-thing."  
  
She winced, and another sob spasmed through her.  
  
"I'm sorry," he offered quickly. "I guess you're not ready to talk about that."  
  
She shook her head. "I can't talk yet. I can't talk about it. but you do. I need to say. you need to know that. that."  
  
"That what, Buffy?"  
  
Her face crumbled. "I think I. was in. heaven."  
  
Spike sat silently, mouth gaping. He was shocked beyond words. Heaven? Heaven! How could he have been so stupid? How could *they* have been so stupid, bringing her back? An indescribable anger boiled inside him, anger at the Scoobies for so selfishly tearing her out of her long-awaited peace, anger at Glory for putting them in this situation in the first place. And most of all he was furious with himself. If he had done his job and protected Dawn like he'd promised, Buffy would never have had to jump. She wouldn't have died, she never would have tasted heaven, the Scoobies wouldn't have had to bring her back, and she wouldn't be laying here like the shed skin of the Slayer she was. He felt guilt like he never had before.  
  
"Buffy, I. I'm sorry," he said when his voice finally returned. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know."  
  
She shook her head. "Now you do."  
  
He stroked her face with his thumb soothingly, and asked, "Are you going to tell the rest of them?"  
  
"No," she replied forcefully, sitting up. "No. And you can't either. They can never know. never, ever know."  
  
He nodded. "All right."  
  
She glared at him for a moment, sealing their agreement with a tacit threat. He shot her a weak smile in mock submissiveness; and satisfied he wouldn't tell, she lay back down, facing the wall once more.  
  
Spike watched her awkwardly, not sure if that was his cue to leave or not. She hadn't told him to go, but Buffy had never been particularly wordy with him, especially when it came to throwing him out.  
  
"Uh, Buffy?" he asked.  
  
She sighed. "What?"  
  
"Is there anything. anything else I can do?"  
  
She was silent for a moment, contemplatively silent. Then she sat up, scooting closer to him. "Yeah. I think there is."  
  
He raised a questioning eyebrow. "Yes?"  
  
Buffy wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, jaw trembling. "Will you hold me until I fall asleep?"  
  
He smiled gently, opening his arms. "Gladly."  
  
  
  
  
  
+we are enemies driven to each other's arms. we are forever bound by hate, torn by love. we shall never speak of what is been spoken between us. our alliance is unjustified and eternal. we will fight to the death inside our own hearts. we respect, we fear. we are enemies driven to each other's arms+  
  
  
  
END 


End file.
